The monotony of the endless spirals set in quickly. At first, they marched with conviction and confidence, but soon that degraded to plodding up the stairs. Everyone acted as if they had been at this journey for hours, when in actuality it had been but four minutes. At this rate, it would not be long before they dropped to their hands and knees to crawl. It was for the best then that something high above wanted to ease their suffering at the hands of boredom. This unseen adversary had sent something tumbling down the staircase. While unable to see it for the moment, everyone could certainly hear it. The seconds passed and the group began to catch glimpses of a blurry brown object rolling down the stairs, visible through the open space between each step. It came closer still, and Charlie finally figured out just what was barreling towards them—a barrel. The man of action, Freight, jumped in front of everyone and stood anchored to the ground. The barrel had half a mind to give up and stop there, but its momentum refused this notion. It crashed into him, shattering into an infinite amount of tiny pieces. It seemed the barrel was no match for Freight, and even the splinters had a hard time finding the courage to pierce his skin.
Charlie leaned over the railing’s edge and looked upwards. He could faintly make out a dark form readying another barrel, this one flaming. Freight commanded everyone to get down low. Since it was a good idea and since nobody in their right mind would question Freight, they got down. The hulking man followed his own advice, got onto his back, and threw his feet high into the air. As the flaming barrel flew overhead, Freight simply kicked it with all his might and sent it flying off the staircase. He also used that very same might to keep it from shattering. He was that good.
After everyone had gotten back to their feet, Charlie, having quiet enough of this malicious barrel-flinger, put a most ingenious plan into action. He opened his bunny pouch and spent a few seconds searching for what he sought—a bunch of bananas and a grappling hook. He stuck the bananas to the grappling hook and leaned over the side of the staircase. As Captain Rescue watched the bunny work, he decided that he too needed a grappling hook and scolded himself for not already having one. With the most precise aim, Charlie fired the grappling hook into the air. After a few seconds, it came falling back down. A very infuriated gorilla followed shortly thereafter, punching the air as it plummeted.
With the coast clear, they were free to scale the staircase in a state of absolute boredom, a state only slightly more enjoyable than dodging flaming barrels. As they neared the summit of the staircase, a simple wooden trapdoor came into view. Freight took point, ready to annihilate whatever lay beyond it, be it a dragon, a zombie, a gorilla, or a combination of the three. Considering what they had already encountered in the past day, anything was possible. To test the waters, he knocked three times and waited to see if anything replied. When nothing did, he grabbed the iron handle and flung it into the air. Freight leapt through the trapdoor and slammed down on the other side. After he and Courtney assured no dragzombrillas (a most ferocious zombie/dragon/gorilla hyrbird) waited on the other side to ambush them, he gave everyone the signal to come up. Charlie grabbed the arm of the last surviving lackey and hoisted him into the broom closet then shut the trapdoor behind him.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Charlie said as he took in the distinctly familiar broom closet, and sure enough, sitting on one of the shelves, a distinctly familiar dented lamp. Dr. Malevolent grabbed Charlie’s arm as he reached forward to pick it up. She was giving him the evil eye, and he knew why. This time around, he’d try not to piss the apparition off.
He rubbed softly, and whispered, “Uh, Mr. Genie, sir, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“I don’t have feet. And, thanks to you, I barely have a home.”
“Yes, well, I apologize, but you didn’t really leave me much choice. You were trying to drown my friends and me.”
“That goofy one in the cape is your friend? I thought he was a mental patient.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive.”
Captain Rescue’s frown turned into a smile at Charlie’s words, though he did not exactly understand them. The genie sighed from within its wrecked home then began to seep out from within, coalescing into his humanoid form once more, only this time bright red to match his mood. He floated there before Charlie and the others in absolute silence, arms crossed and looking quite stern.
Finally, the genie said, “Yes? What do you want?”
“Well, obviously, we were hoping you’d help us save the world. If it’s not too much to ask.”
“Save… the world? Why would I ever consider doing a thing like that? And how do you know I can even be trusted.”
“I just have one of those feelings about you.”
“Oh, you have a feeling? About me? How typical.”
“Hey now, don’t get bent out of shape. You just don’t seem like the type to let a few zombies get out of control.”
“Bent out of shape? Let me turn you into a toad, and we’ll see just how ‘bent out of shape’ I am.”
“Oh, are you a witch now too?”
The genie snapped its fingers.
“Ribbit.”
“Not so witty now are we?”
“Ribbit.”
The genie chuckled and then snapped its fingers once more. Charlie dusted himself off as he rose from his hands and knees. As the shock of having been turned into a frog wore off, he noticed how much cleaner his suit had become. He almost wanted to hug the genie.
“No need to thank me,” The genie said, taking notice of Charlie’s excitement. “I am not opposed to random acts of kindness. As long as they’re not wished for.”
“So, will you help us or not. Must be boring trapped inside that tiny lamp.”
The genie grew quiet, as if thinking the world saving proposal over. Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay… okay. You have my… gas.”
“Awesome, with you at our side, things should be exponentially easier.”
The genie laughed. “Don’t think I’m going to make this easy for you meatbags. I mean, I definitely could if I wanted. But I’d much rather just be a relatively impartial observer.”
“I’m sure you’ll warm to us. We are a stand up bunch.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” the genie said unenthusiastically as he took a moment to look at everyone around it.
“Let’s get crackin’ then, Genie. And everyone else”
“I have a name, you know.” The genie said agitatedly.
“Well, I just assumed…”
“Oh, you assumed. I’m the one who’s been around for thousands of years, and you’re the one who gets to assume things. Perfect.”
“So, what is your name?”
“Greg.”
“Really, it’s Greg?”
“It sure is.”
“Care to explain how that came to pass?”
“Not especially, do you care to explain why you parade around in a rabbit outfit?”
Charlie became uncomfortably silent.
“Just what I thought.”
And then there were seven, including the nameless lackey whose death loomed just around the corner. Seven people crammed into one broom closet only begged the question of how they were all able to fit, even if one was incorporeal. The simple fact of the matter was they did not, not in the least. To make matters worse, if there were one thing no one wanted to be stuck in a broom closet with, it would be a zombie. Stubbs, however gentlemanly, was beginning to rub off on everyone around him, in the most literal of senses. This may or may not have been hazardous to his health since there was really no telling how much body mass Stubbs’ could do away with before he simply stopped working.
A close contender for the Would Rather Not Be Stuck in a Broom Closet With contest, Captain Rescue, and judging by the smell, the man had not stepped foot in a shower his entire life—or he too was dead. Yet, one could argue that the night’s activities would have left even the cleanest of persons in a rather unkempt state. Dr. Malevolent had the
nagging temptation to grab the nearby mop and give Captain Rescue a good scrubbing. She would have probably done the same to Stubbs, but frankly, she was afraid to touch him. Not to mention, he would probably dissolve.
“Where does this door lead?” Charlie said, looking at Greg.
“Why don’t you open it and find out?”
“Is this how things are going to go from now on?”
“Indubitably.”
Charlie simply rolled his eyes and opened the nearby door, which apparently led into yet another hallway. As he surveyed it, he realized that fortunately this one was significantly shorter and seemed not to abuse doors as the last one did. At first, the hallway revealed no discernable clues where to go on their quest to save the world, but Dr. Malevolent soon noticed a small hint in the form of a sign red sign above the door at the end of the hallway. On it were the words: “Base of Operations, Authorized Dolphins Only”. She nudged Charlie and pointed. He was too busy inspecting each individual door to be bothered by her. She nudged him again, only harder. He spun around and, through the bright smile of the bunny head, glared angrily. Dr. Malevolent shoved him and pointed towards the red sign. After reading what it said, his mannerisms apologized profusely and headed towards it.
“That was a rather conveniently placed broom closet, was it not?” Charlie said to Greg.
“I plead the fifth.”
“Do you even have an understanding of our laws?”
“Just from what I’ve seen on television.”
“You have a television?”
“I did—until you crushed it.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll get you another.”
“Don’t bother, I have to get them specially ordered. Feel free to get me another lamp, though.”
“I sure will,” Charlie chuckled as he grabbed hold of the door handle and tried to open it. Sure enough, it was locked. He looked at Greg, who just shrugged indifferently.
“You can’t expect my help with every issue you run into, you did make it this far without me. Not that I’m admitting I’ve helped at all, but if I had, it’s not something you should grow accustomed to.”
Freight shoved Charlie aside and stood before the door, ready to give it a taste of his medicine. He did not seem to care how large, wooden, or reinforced with space-age steel the dolphin overlords had made it. He was going to kick it down, and no one existed who could convince him otherwise, but someone probably should have tried. He was undoubtedly about to injure himself seriously. Kick after kick collided with the door, which made no apparent signs of giving. After a few dozen tries, Dr. Malevolent kindly pushed him aside.
“You’re going to break something if you carry on like this.” She laid flat against the large door and reached upwards to feel along its frame. As luck would have, a key sat up there.
Charlie looked at the genie.
“Wasn’t me,” the apparition replied.
Dr. Malevolent opened the seemingly ancient door. She shook her head and blinked several times at the room she before her; it did not appear to be as ancient as the door or the rest of the castle, not in the least. In fact, if anywhere, it appeared to have come from the future. The sight shocked Dr. Malevolent so much that she had to walk in and out of the room several times to make sure the fabric of this reality was intact. Sure enough, it did seem intact, not that she would have been able to tell the difference.
The control room seemed to be straight out of a science fiction movie. Holograms and digital displays depicted everything from the Earth to an ant colony in Arizona. They were sure that as soon as they stepped past the door, some space-age security failsafe would surely vaporize them. But alas, their vapors seemed safe. Speaking of vapors, Greg followed behind everyone and watched inquisitively as the humans (and Stubbs) inspected the room. They scratched their heads at many of the buttons and displays, which appeared to be of an indecipherable language. One button, out of all in the room, drew attention to itself—most likely because of its red color. This large red button had a purpose, a large purpose, a zombie exterminating purpose.
A glass barrier shielded the button from any unwanted pressing. Freight whipped out his shotgun and unleashed on it. Apparently, whoever had shielded the button from any unwanted pressing foresaw bullets being just as unwanted, because the glass remained intact. What did not remain intact, however, was the general hue of the room, which now flashed red. Freight had tripped an alarm. Greg’s gaseous red lips formed a smile, he did not exactly wish his newfound comrades harm, but a little danger would at least make things entertaining for him.
Everyone closed their eyes and awaited vaporization. And yet again, their vapors remained theirs. They opened their eyes just in time to see a small device in the corner of the room projecting a point of light. Captain Rescue found it oddly enticing and wandered over to it for a better look. He stuck his hand out and waved it through just as it started to grow. Freight grabbed his cape and yanked him back as the point of light expanded into a rectangular portal, glowing with all sorts of extra-dimensional energy. The portal’s pink color signaled that it was indeed an evil portal. Moreover, within the next few moments, something just as evil would pass through the portal from some unknown plane of existence.
As prophesied, something large passed through the portal a few moments later. Instantly, everyone recognized this newfound dimensional traveler, what they didn’t know, however, was how to react to it. A dolphin towered over them, the creature was big—yes, but the suit it wore made it even bigger. Since, even in the future, dolphins spent the majority of their time in the water, its mechanical suit made it more mobile on land—that and it looked damned cool. The sleek suit encasing the dolphin was a mixture of chrome and black components, fitted over the creature’s body like the plates of medieval armor. A wet suit, quite literally, covered the dolphin, keeping its skin permanently damp. Wires connecting the mechanical legs and arms to its flippers and fluke gave it full control of the suit’s functions and collection of cables and tubes lined its back.
Evolution had told the sea mammals to stay in the water, but the dolphins, the dolphins said no. Generations of gene splicing had rendered it a freak of nature. Opposable digits sprouted from the tips of the creature’s fins and its warped spine arched its head forward. The dolphin’s flukes appeared rather unchanged, since these awesome exoskeletal suits meant they did not need to be. The dolphin wore a helmet similar to that of fighter pilots, inside was a heads-up-display with all sorts of information about its surroundings, from its targets’ species, to their heartbeat, to where it needed to fire its heat-seeking missiles for optimal damage (anywhere).
The moment he caught a glimpse of the creature, Captain Rescue suddenly remember his parents and their fateful scuba diving vacation. It took his brain an ample amount of time to make the connection, but it eventually did. The dolphin overlords were responsible for his parent’s deaths. How? Why? He really had no idea. For all he knew, they just wanted to be mean. There was no other reason he could have comprehended on his own. But this revelation would spearhead the campaign to rid the planet of the blight known as dolphins once and for all.
The dolphin stepped forward and raised its mechanical arms, revealing the weaponry built into them. To everyone’s surprise, though they should have probably seen it coming, Stubbs approached the dolphin and said, “Master, I have brought those whose goal it is to make trouble for your kind.” The dolphin nodded and Stubbs walked over to stand beside it.
“You dirty zombie!” Dr. Malevolent shouted, “You may have stunk and been falling to pieces, but we thought you were our friend!”
Stubbs chuckled, though with the state of his body, it only distantly resembled one, “You silly human, why would I ever call you or any of your kind ‘friend’ when your end is so close.”
“Oh, this is getting interesting, isn’t it?” Greg said as he floated over to the dolphin to take a closer look.
He watched as the dolphin began to speak in clicks and squeals; it
s words translated by the speaker mounted into its suit, “Prepare to die, pesky humans!”
Before the heroes could say a word in their defense, the dolphin’s weaponry started to power up, signaled by a high-pitched wail. They sighed and dove for cover just a series of lasers barraged them. Within moments, the machinery that had been protecting them started to explode in their faces. It would not be long before the room literally came down on their heads. Through the chaos, Greg just floated in midair, tickled by lasers as they passed through him.
From behind a counter, Freight grabbed Courtney and fired at the dolphin. An invisible shield protecting it stopped the slugs in their path and they dropped to the ground. He shrugged and held his beloved close, death did not seem so bad—Freight had his fun. As the futuristic machines all around him exploded, a slow acoustic song began to play within his head. He had been saving it for this very occasion, and now he wept—a noble death. Captain Rescue wept as well, but for other reasons. On his knees with his arms wrapped around his head, he balled his eyes out. He still had so much to do, so much to see, so many dolphins to kill.
“Exterminate!” The dolphin said repeatedly as it fired laser after laser.
Freight rose to his feet with his hands in the air. “Take me! I’m ready to pass on from this place!”
Stubbs tapped the dolphin on the shoulder. It turned while continuing to fire arbitrarily. All the lasers missed Freight completely, who remained adamant that his time had come. The dolphin saw a cluster of hydraulic cables in Stubbs’ hand. The zombie tore them loose, spilling fluid all over the dolphin and its super cool armor. Instantly, the suit began to malfunction and the dolphin fell to its metallic knees no longer able to move. Stubbs then leaned forward and bit a chunk of flesh from the dolphin, his first and only time spreading the zombie bug.
Not Everything Brainless is Dead Page 16
